


So the Rebel wills it, so it will be

by martiniglass



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Found Family, M/M, Magickal Protagonists, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Character Tags to be Added - Freeform, Pre-Canon, Present Tense, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 11:19:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13457157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/martiniglass/pseuds/martiniglass
Summary: “Remember that nothing is impossible. Nothing is set in stone. Not even death. And I know how silly that sounds but if you forget everything else we’ve taught you, just remember this, okay? Fate can be changed. Even if everything else points to a seemingly inescapable path, never forget that there is always another path open to you. You just have to be brave enough to search it out.”He holds onto those words and takes in a deep breath. For a moment, Akira wonders what his mentors would think. What would they say if they found out he was using their lessons to attempt the seemingly impossible. He couldn't imagine them being all that surprised. After all, he's simply following in their footsteps.A now chronological tale of how Akira saved the day, saved the boy, and the two past protagonists who taught him how to do it. Still has way too many jars and telling Fate to shove it.





	1. A first glimpse

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, hello! To my faithful readers, the time has finally come. To the new readers, hello to you too! Just to make sure everyone's caught up, this is a new and improved version of one of my older works, "A pinch of salt". You don't have to read that to understand this work, I'm simply moving everything over in a neater, cleaner fashion, but feel free to give it a look if you'd like. But guys, I'm so excited! I hope you all enjoy the new chronological, polished version of my tale. As always, comments and kudos, as well as constructive criticism, are extremely welcomed. I can't grow if I don't learn.
> 
> And a super special shout-out to Musical_life, who suggested I take this route in the first place. You, my dear, are awesome. As is everyone else! So, let's get this show on the road. Please enjoy!

He’s eating breakfast at the kitchen table, doing his very best to keep the crumbs from his toast from hitting the floor, when he overhears his parents talking about them over the kitchen sink. The both of them are getting ready for work, a place that they are always going to and Akira is always wondering what's so amazing about working if it keeps his parents away all of the time. He keeps his thoughts to himself, however, as he silently watches his parents argue.

“They’ve just moved in,” his father says as he fills his travel mug with his morning coffee. “And they’re most likely still exhausted. Give them a few days before you bombard them with dinner invites.”

“But it would be rude to wait and it’s important to appear welcoming,” his mother argues back as she sets the last dish onto the drying rack. Both her and his father had already eaten breakfast by the time Akira had even woken up. Thankfully, Akira has known how to make toast since he was little. Now that he’s seven, he can practically take care of himself without them.

“If they’re so exhausted, then they would love a chance to enjoy a home-cooked meal without having to cook it themselves,” his mother continues to say, turning from the sink to grab at her purse, rummaging through it with a small frown. “So I’ll make some arrangements and we’ll both get home tomorrow early so we can welcome them to the neighborhood properly.”

Akira watches them as he takes another bite of his toast. He doesn’t actually know who they’re talking about; he doesn’t remember anyone moving into the empty house next door and he’s pretty sure that’s something he would have noticed. But he’s not really allowed to play outside after school because his mother hates it when he dirties his clothes so he guesses that they could have moved in while he was at school or doing his homework. He watches as his mother sets her purse snug around her shoulder and reaches for his father’s briefcase, which is resting on the kitchen table.

His father sighs and turns from the sink as well, travel mug in hand. “I’ll inform my boss,” he says before he leans over and gives his mother a quick kiss on the cheek. “Just make sure that you remember to invite them.”

His mother gives his father a glare as she hands him his briefcase. “Just make sure that you remember to come home on time,” she replies and then they’re both hurrying out the door, leaving behind the mixed scent of the coffee from the coffee maker and his mother’s work perfume.

Akira watches them leave, nibbling on the ends his toast as the front door closes shut. Now that they’re gone, he can swing his legs back and front under the table without his mother scolding him. He glances at the clock. It’s Sunday so his babysitter won’t be coming over until noon to watch over him and his parents won’t be back until after he goes to bed. The silence of the empty house has stopped being scary a long time ago so, instead of wishing that his parents would come back, like he used to do when he was little, he simply finishes his toast and brings his dirty plate to the sink to wash.

With the house to himself, he can go out into the backyard and read under the tree. His mother never lets him do that so its quickly become a secret reward Akira gives himself when he’s all alone. Rising up on his tiptoes to place the plate on the drying rack, Akira hurries up to his bedroom to grab his latest book. He gives their apparent new neighbors little thought. They’re most likely just the same as his parents; cold, boring, and uninterested in a child. Just like all of the other adults.

* * *

The night his parents have set to host the new neighbors, Akira has more important things to worry about than making sure he looks all nice and proper for them. His mother is making strawberry daifuku, something she almost never makes because of how sugary and unhealthy she says it is, and he’s wondering if whether or not it’ll be worth the scolding if he asks to have one before dinner. He’s wearing a freshly pressed white dress shirt, which makes him kind of nervous because he knows he’s not suppose to mess it up or spill food on it. He’s in the living room, plucking at the hem of said shirt when their doorbell rings and his parents spring into action.

His mother hurries towards the front door, his father following her at a more sedated pace, to welcome the new neighbors and Akira stays where he is, knowing that he’d just get in the way if he tried to join them. He’s too busy pulling at his shirt to really care about joining them anyways.

“Akira,” his mother’s voice says, sounding exasperated. “Don’t pull at your shirt. Remember your manners and come say hello.”

Akira forces his hands away from his shirt and turns towards the front entrance, ready to pretend to be interested in order to placate his parents, when he pauses. The two men standing next to his parents are young, more like his babysitter’s age rather than gross, old adults. The taller of the two, and he’s even taller than his father, has grey hair despite not being old and he has a bright smile on his face. He gives Akira a tiny wave and Akira can see that there are a bunch of tiny scars all over his hand.

The smaller of the two, to Akira’s surprise, has long blue hair tied up into a bun. Blue hair! He’s also smiling at Akira but his smile is smaller, more tired. He looks like he could use a nice nap, though Akira would never dare say that outloud. The both of them are dressed nice, though not as formal as his parents or himself. It makes them look a lot less… scary and grown-up.

“Nice to meet you, Akira-kun,” the grey haired man says and suddenly, Akira feels terribly shy. He feels his face warm up as he blushes and he looks down at his feet. He wasn’t expecting them to actually talk to him. None of his parents’ friends ever talk to him unless it’s to tell him to go play in his room and to leave the adults alone.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” he mumbles, bowing low just like his father had taught him. But as he bows, he realized that he doesn’t know either of their names and he can’t finish giving them a proper hello. His stomach drops uncomfortably to his feet and he swallows. “U-Umm…”

Before either of his parents can scold him for not waiting to hear their names, however, the blue haired man chuckles and the sound reminds Akira of the wind chimes he always hears as he walks home from school. The blue haired man gives his parents a small nod before he walks into the living room and bends down to one knee. The grey haired man doesn’t seem to miss a step as he recaptures his parents attention by asking them about their jobs and then, suddenly, the only one focused on Akira is the shorter neighbor.

The blue haired man gives Akira another soft smile and he holds out his hand. “My name is Minato Arisato,” he says and Akira can’t help but relax as he speaks. His voice is just… very nice. “And his name is Yu Narukami.”

Akira reaches out to take the offered hand and he jolts slightly when he does; the man’s hand is really cold. But his hand is also soft and doesn’t crush Akira’s hand like some of his parents other adult friends, so he smiles back and gives his new neighbor’s hand a shake.

“It’s nice to meet you, Arisato-san,” he says and he can’t help but notice how pale his new neighbor is. He wonders, in that vague, curious way most children think, if Arisato-san ever goes outside.

Arisato-san’s smile grows wider and he lets out a small chuckle. “It’s very nice to meet you too, Akira-kun."


	2. Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be posting two chapters tonight, one plucked straight from the old version and one completely new. Let's see if you guys like the format I'll be going with and, as always, please enjoy and don't hesitate to tell me what you think!

Like all important, life-changing events, it happens completely by accident. Akira has a routine that his parents have stuck to ever since he was little; it’s so ingrained into his brain that the mere thought of changing it makes his mind spin. Everyday after school, Akira walks with his other classmates to the park where he waits for his babysitter to pick him up. Then he spends the rest of the day either doing his homework or reading the books his parents allow him to read while his babysitter plays on her phone before he has dinner. He almost never sees his parents coming home from work and then he wakes up the next day ready to do it all over again. That’s how it’s been ever since Akira could remember and he’s always assumed that said routine would never, ever change.

Sitting on the park table, crossing and uncrossing his feet, Akira tightens his grip on his backpack and wonders what he did wrong. Because his babysitter hasn’t come to pick him up. It’s late; far too late for something not to have happened. The caretakers are all mumbling to themselves, glancing at him out of the corner of their eyes when they think he can’t see them, and Akira tries to swallow down his growing anxiety. All of the other children are all long gone with their own guardians and Akira does his best not to fidget too much on the bench.

His babysitter has never been so late picking him up before. An ominous rumble from the sky sounds and Akira forces himself to push back the growing wetness in his eyes. His babysitter isn’t here and his parents are both at work. Sitting there alone in the park, the caretakers wondering out loud what they’re going to do with him and with the clouds darken by the minute above him, Akira can’t help but think, _‘They’ve finally decided to get rid of me.’_

Because why else would they be leaving him there all alone?

“Akira-kun!”

Akira’s head shoots up from his feet and blinks back his tears when he sees, of all people, Arisato-san rushing towards him with an umbrella in one hand and a bright, yellow travel mug in the other. Feeling a rush of relief wash through him from just seeing someone familiar, Akira jumps to his feet and takes a few steps towards his neighbor before one of the caretakers, a older woman with hints of grey in her hair, places a hand on his shoulder.

Whatever look she’s giving Arisato-san, however, does nothing to stop the blue-haired man and he quickly reaches the both of them. “Hey Akira-kun,” he says, kneeling down to be at his level. He sounds slightly out of breath but he’s smiling. “I’m sorry it took so long. I bet you’re kind of freaking out right now, huh?”

Akira opens his mouth to say… something, anything, but the caretaker gently clears her throat and both he and Arisato-san look up at her. “Excuse me, but may I ask who you are?” she asks, voice firm but kind. “I’m not sure if you’re on the pick-up list for Akira-kun.”

Arisato-san blinks and then lets out a chuckle, standing back up and offering the caretaker his hand. “I’m very sorry,” he says and he sounds a little embarrassed. “I was just so focused on getting here that I completely forgot about the rules. My name is Minato Arisato and I think Akira-kun’s mother just left you a voicemail explaining the situation.”

The caretaker raises an eyebrow but waves over another caretaker who’s holding a phone in her hands. While the two women mumble to each other, Arisato-san kneels back down and offers an extremely confused Akira the travel mug. “Here,” he says and Akira can feel how wonderfully warm it is when he wraps his fingers around the mug. “Yu made some hot chocolate and it’ll help keep you warm while we walk home.”

Akira blinks and nods, unsure about the feelings currently swirling around in his chest. While the two caretakers wave Arisato-san over for more adult mumbling, he lifts the travel mug to his lips and takes a hesitant sip. The moment the chocolate hits his tongue, he can’t help but let out a pleased hum. His mother doesn’t allow hot chocolate too often; she says that it’s too unhealthy. But this is so much better than any of the hot chocolate he’s ever been allowed to have before. It’s creamy and sweet without being too much and Akira doesn’t try to stop himself from taking another, larger sip.

He hears Arisato-san’s chuckle again and he looks up from his chocolate to see Arisato-san, without the two caretakers, smiling at him. When he sees that he has Akira’s attention, he offers out his hand and smiles wider when Akira hesitantly takes it.

“Alright,” he says, popping open the umbrella with one hand just as the first few drops start to fall. “Now that we’ve gotten that taken care of, let’s start walking and I’ll explain what’s going on, okay? Don’t worry, no one’s hurt or anything. We’ve all just had a moment of miscommunication.”

Akira takes another sip of the hot chocolate and dutifully follows his neighbor’s lead, making sure to stick close to Arisato-san’s side to avoid the rain. He doesn’t really know what to say or do. He’s never been picked up by Arisato-san before and he doesn’t know if he’s being brought to his home or to Arisato-san’s home. He doesn’t know if he should ask or if he’s even allowed to. Despite not really knowing his neighbors and only seeing them in passing while being taken to and from school, Arisato-san and Narukami-san are adults. He’s a kid and they’re adults, which means that he has to listen to them.

So he walks, taking little sips of his hot chocolate, and stays silent as Arisato-san speaks.

“It looks like your babysitter forgot to tell your parents that she wasn’t going to be able to make it today,” Arisato-san explains as he pulls Akira gently to the right to avoid a growing puddle. “And no one realized what was happening until one of the caretakers called your mother. And since both of your parents can’t leave work right now, your mother called Yu and I and had us placed on the pick-up list.”

He glances down at Akira and all he can do is nod with a mouthful of hot chocolate. Arisato-san must see something funny because he lets out a little laugh and turns back to the sidewalk. “So I hope you don’t mind, but you’ll be hanging out with Yu and I until your parents get back home. Does that sound okay?”

Inside, Akira is wilting like a dying flower because no, that doesn’t sound okay. Akira doesn’t know any of the rules of Arisato-san’s home and so he doesn’t know what he can and can’t do. What if he breaks a rule he doesn’t know about and they get upset with him? He likes Arisato-san and Narukami-san. For adults, they’re not so bad so he doesn’t want them to be mad at him. Once again, Arisato-san looks down at him for confirmation and Akira can only nod. He can’t say no, after all. He has no say in this. He’s just a kid.

So as Arisato-san continues leading him down the sidewalk, Akira tries to bury his nerves underneath waves of delicious hot chocolate. He hopes, as Arisato-san leads him closer and closer to their neighborhood, that he doesn’t do anything to make his neighbors mad.

By the time they reach their neighborhood, the rain has already transformed from a light drizzle to a full on down poor and Akira has managed to somewhat calm himself down from his earlier nerves. The travel mug in Akira’s hands is empty, has been empty for some time, but he can still taste the chocolate on his lips and he holds onto that sweetness as Arisato-san pulls him into his and Narukami-san’s home.

“Looks like we made it back just in time,” Arisato-san says as he helps Akira out of his jacket. He hands Akira back his backpack, which Akira thankfully clings to. “And as long as we get warmed up soon, we won’t be catching any colds so I hope you’re ready for more hot chocolate.”

As Arisato-san hangs up both of their jackets, Akira takes the time to take a quick glance around. He’s not expecting much, really; most grown ups all have pretty much the same kind of homes. Expensive furniture that kids aren’t allowed on, weird, fragile vases or glass… things resting on sharp and boring coffee tables. It was always the same. So when Akira looks around at the unfamiliar house after slipping his shoes off, it naturally takes him a few moments to realize, with eyes slowly growing wider and wider, that Arisato-san and Narukami-san’s home is very different from other adult homes.

The only room he can see from the front hall is the living room but what a living room it is. For one, the walls are green! Not the bright green that he’s used to seeing at school, these walls are a much deeper green that reminds Akira more of a forest, but they’re still green. Green walls! The second thing he notices is that said walls are absolutely covered with shelves. They’re everywhere and Akira can feel his confusion only rising when he sees that most of the shelves are covered in what looks like rocks and toys.

But before he can take a closer look at the shelves, because what kind of adults have toys and rocks on their shelves, he hears footsteps coming from further inside the house and he quickly looks away from the shelves and back to his feet. He can feel Arisato-san’s eyes on his back and he starts to fidget uncomfortably. He doesn’t know what he’s allowed to say or where he’s allowed to go. Should he sit on the couch or go start his homework in the kitchen? Before he can muster up the courage to ask, he’s stopped by the sudden appearance of Narukami-san from around the small front hall’s corner.

“There you two are,” he says and Akira hunches his shoulders slightly at how annoyed his neighbor’s voice sounds. “I was starting to worry. Now, please, tell me how silly bringing the umbrella was.”

He hears Arisato-san snort next to him but Akira chooses to stay quiet, still unsure if he’s allowed to speak. Most of his parents friends like him better when he’s quiet. He thinks that if he can stay as quiet and as small as possible, he won’t be too in the way and make either neighbor upset. Narukami-san, however, ruins his carefully thought out plan in an instant when he steps closer and crouches down to Akira’s level.

“It’s nice to see you again, Akira-kun,” he says and his voice doesn’t sound upset anymore. He sounds as nice as he’d been during the dinner his parents had thrown. He’s also wearing an apron and has what looks like flour in his hair, which is just weird enough to bring a small smile to Akira’s face. “I’m really sorry that it took Minato and I so long to pick you up. I talked to your mother though and she’s fine with you staying here.”

A few seconds pass and then Akira realizes that he’s suppose to speak. “Umm,” he says, clinging to his backpack and trying to remember his manners. “It’s okay. T-Thank you for having me over. I promise I won’t be in the way.”

Narukami-san cocks his head slightly, a weird look passing over his face. From behind him, he can hear Arisato-san let out a soft sigh and he worries for a moment that he’s said something wrong. Then, thankfully, Narukami-san’s smile returns and Akira can feel himself breathe again.

“Well, thank you very much, Akira-kun,” he says. “But I don’t think you have to worry about being in the way, okay? We’re more than happy to have you over. So please, don’t be afraid to ask either of us anything.”

And… Akira doesn’t really know what to say to that. Because he’s never had an adult be so nice to him. Whenever his parents or his parents’ adult friends see him, they always insist on him staying out of their way. They don’t really talk to him, expect to correct his bad behavior or to remind him of his manners. Both Arisato-san and Narukami-san, though, are so different from any other adults he’s met and it’s so strange. And almost as if he can see Akira’s confusion, Narukami-san’s smile softens.

“Now,” he says as he stands back up. He holds out his hand to Akira. “Let’s get you two some more hot chocolate and a snack. Like Minato said, we don’t need either of you catching a cold. Do you like butter cookies?”

Akira, still surprised into silence, simply nods his head and hesitantly takes his neighbor’s hand. Despite all of the tiny scars that cover Narukami-san’s hand, his hand is warm and his grip is gentle. And as he’s led into the home, with Narukami-san smiling down at him and with Arisato-san singing his praise over Narukami-san’s cookies, he feels a tiny part of him start to settle. For the first time since he could remember, he doesn’t feel nervous anymore.

* * *

The number of people who’ve been side-eyeing him with distrustful sneers is steadily growing and Akira has literally no fucks to give to any of them. All around him, the general chattering and mumbling of the people bombard his senses and he has to swallow down the growing nausea that has made its permanent home in his stomach. That’s all he’s been able to feel ever since his arrest; nausea with a healthy dose of numbness.

Being thrown into a waiting cell, being forced to stand in front of a judge and listen to him rant about Akira’s “delinquency” and “disregard for the societal rules” has hollowed out his chest and left nothing but apathy and the urge to vomit.

He’s been wandering the streets of Tokyo for what feels like hours now, though he knows it’s only been half an hour at the most, doing his best not to bump into people and just generally keeping his head down. Stopping by what looks like an old second-hand shop, he takes a moment to look down at his phone. His glasses slide uncomfortably down his nose and he pushes them up with a small sigh. He’s still not used to their weight on his face but having them on makes him feel less open. He knows that he’s just fooling himself; the glasses don’t even have actual prescription lens in them. They’re just clear glass. But having them on makes him feel… well, not better but less horrible.

The information regarding his temporary lodgings sits in stark black text against the white background light of his phone and he goes over it once again, just to be sure. _‘Sojiro Sakura,’_ he thinks. _‘His house should be somewhere here in this residential area.’_

Amongst the shops and homes, he spots a police officer standing next to a streetlamp and he can’t stop the bite of panic that hits him, making his palms sweaty. Before his arrest, he wouldn’t have looked twice at the man. He would’ve just been another officer, doing what he does to keep people safe. He would’ve been someone Akira would be comfortable going up to. But now… now, he could be Akira’s ticket to a second ride in backseat of a police car.

But he doesn’t know exactly where he’s going and he can’t just ask a random stranger where another random stranger lives. So, forcing himself to look as innocent and as harmless as possible, he approaches the officer and asks, in a timid voice, “Excuse me? Can you tell me where Sojiro Sakura lives?”

He can feel the officer’s eyes on him but he does his best not to fidget. Guilty people fidget. After a second of silence, the officer lets out a sigh and crosses his arms over his chest. “It’s in an alley a bit further back,” he answers. His voice is rough and the textbook definition of “unfriendly”. “Take a right after that apartment with the stairs.”

Akira lets out a tiny breath and gives the officer a nod. “Thank you very much,” he says and then he makes himself scarce, not wanting to be so close anymore.

It doesn’t take long to find Sakura-san’s home after that. It’s small, with a concrete fence of sorts, but when he rings the doorbell, no one answers. He cocks his head to the side slightly, ringing the doorbell again and still getting no answer. He glances down at his phone and yes, he’s right on time. Sakura-san should be here. Before he can get too confused, however, a voice sounds from beside him and he turns to see a delivery person of some kind.

“Looks like no one’s home,” he says and he offers Akira a smile. “Sakura-san is usually at his cafe around this time. If you’re looking for him, he’ll probably be at Leblanc in the back alley.”

Akira doesn’t say anything but he does give the man a nod similar to the one he’d given the police officer before he turns to go find the back alley. Much like Sakura-san’s home, finding the cafe is simple enough. In the depressing greys hues of the alley, the bright red and white sign reading, “Coffee & Curry: Leblanc” is rather hard to miss. He takes a moment to just breath before he places his hand on the cafe’s door handle.

Perhaps… just maybe, this Sakura-san will be welcoming. He did, after all, agree to take Akira in after all of the problems he’s caused. Maybe he heard Akira’s story and saw the injustice of it all too. _‘Maybe,’_ Akira thinks as he opens the door, listening to the cheery jingle from the door’s bells, _‘He’ll be like Arisato-san and Narukami-san?’_

The only people in the cafe are two older people sitting in a booth, watching the T.V and an older gentlemen in a bright pink dress shirt leaning against the cafe’s long counter, newspaper in one hand and a pen in the other. Akira doesn't pay too much attention to the T.V, he’s never been a T.V person and Narukami-san had a strict no television after eleven pm rule, so he focuses instead on the man with the newspaper, who quickly looks up at him after the door clicks shut.

Almost instantly, a sour look appears on the man’s face and Akira feels his heart drop. “Oh right,” the man says as he throws his newspaper on the counter. He sounds about as excited as Akira feels. “They did say that was today.”

The elder couple leaves, talking about some accidents or something, but their words sound muffled at best and all of Akira’s focus is on his new caretaker, who can only be the man in pink. He mumbles something about four hours for a single cup of coffee, rubbing a hand behind his neck, before his eyes land on Akira and they sharpen.

“So,” he says. “You’re him? Kurusu Akira?”

Akira swallows and nods, folding his hands together. “Yes sir,” he says with a short bow. “Thank you for having me.”

Sakura-san just grumbles and places one hand on his hip. “Well, you can probably guess that I’m Sojiro Sakura and that you’ll be in my care of the next year,” he says and all Akira can do is nod again. Sakura-san gives him a once over and scoffs a bit. “I was wondering what kind of unruly kid would show up, but you’re the one, huh?”

Akira can only nod again, his voice stuck behind the knot in his throat, and apparently, Sakura-san isn’t too happy with that because he just sighs and turns. “Follow me,” he says in a gruff voice and starts to lead Akira upstairs.

Akira follows and with every step, the lead ball in his stomach grows heavier and heavier. Sojiro Sakura isn’t like Arisato-san or Narukami-san at all.

* * *

Walking through the T.V station, Akira can practically see the steam rising out of Ryuji’s ears. While feeling sort of upset himself, he can’t really find it in himself to be as pissed as his fellow Phantom Thief. So a bunch of television jerks decided to boss them around a bit, so what? At least the work had made the day go by a little faster. He assumes, however, that the moment Ryuji thinks its safe, he’s going to explode and, sure enough, the moment it's just him and Morgana, Ryuji turns and stomps his foot against the ground.

“I’m so pissed off!” he shouts, his voice breaking ever so slightly in between words. “Aren’t we supposed to be guests? Why the hell do we hafta be doin’ manual labor? This is bullshit! Goin’ to the bathroom didn’t even make me feel better!”

Even though he knows that it’ll just piss Ryuji off further, Akira can’t help the chuckle that escapes him. He can see Ryuji glaring at him but seriously, did he expect anything else? Ryuji’s just so… vibrant and ridiculous. He covers his mouth with one hand and does his best to calm himself down, knowing that Ryuji isn’t too happy with him and that Morgana is probably not appreciating the jostling of his bag.

“Sorry,” he says in between giggles. “I’m sorry, you’re right. This is bullshit. Continue, please.”

Ryuji rolls his eyes at his blatant sarcasm but before he can continue, Ann appears from the other hall and glares at the both of them. “Quiet down, will you?” she says, hand on her hip. After a moment though she seems to relent a bit and tucks a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “I get how you feel though. That sucked for the both of us.”

Ryuji groans loudly and hangs his head down low. “We gotta do more of this tomorrow too?” he asks no one in particular.

Akira can feel Morgana wiggling around on his back so he doesn’t start when said cat hops up onto his shoulder and levels them all with a stern look. “No flaking out, Ryuji,” he says and Ryuji sighs.

“I know, I know,” he says, his tone oozing sarcasm as he kicks at the floor. “I gotta be a ‘good boy’, right?”

Akira lets out a huff. “Being Phantom Thieves isn’t easy but we’ve gotta do what we’ve gotta do,” he says and for some reason, that causes Ann to perk up a bit.

“That reminds me,” she says. “We get to go home straight from here today. We don’t spend too much time in this area, so why don’t we relax and check out some shops before he go home?”

Morgana immediately starts wiggling and lets out an excited yowl, causing Akira to almost lose his balance as the cat climbs higher onto his shoulder. “Oh, I know!” he exclaims happily. “I know a place! I wanna go to that huge pancake-looking place we passed by on the way here! It looked delicious!”

Ryuji and Ann both look a little confused but then Ryuji snaps his fingers with a growing grin on his face. “You mean Dome Town!” he says, sounding almost just as excited as Morgana. “It’s pretty awesome. The round part is a baseball stadium and then along the outside they’ve got an amusement park.”

Akira smiles grows and he opens his mouth to state that he’s never been to an amusement park before, when all of the sudden, his insides go cold. Ann and Ryuji are still talking to Morgana about Dome Town, he can hear their words though they sound far off, but all Akira can focus on is the growing sense of dread in his stomach. Almost immediately, he feels Arsene come bubbling up to the surface of his skin, claws threatening to tear apart whatever’s put them into such a state of distress. Akira swallows and forces himself to calm down, pushing Arsene back a bit.

Something… evil is in the building. Perhaps even on the same floor as them. He wonders vaguely how the others aren’t feeling this level of negative energy, but then he remembers that the others probably hadn’t had the same sort of mentors he’d had growing up. Having been taught by both Arisato-san and Narukami-san in how to tell the difference between positive and negative energy, Akira can practically taste how wrong the energy is, how nasty and vile it is. Like a rotten wound that’s been left to fester.

Inside, Arsene hisses and mimes wrapping his wings around them both. He too is understandably upset by what they’re feeling. Akira takes in a breath and tries to act nonchalant as he dips one hand into his pocket, his fingers brushing up against the quartz crystal he’d stuffed there purely by habit. The energy clears up a little bit then, smoothing some of Arsene’s ruffled feathers and allowing Akira to breathe more freely. But now, with the sharp distress somewhat abated, he’s curious.

What the hell could be causing so much negative and poisonous energy? And why the hell is it in a television studio, of all places?

Just as he thinks this and just as Morgana mumbles something about passing up on the roller-coasters, a young man in a pair of black dress pants and a greyish coat walks past them and stops. He’s holding a briefcase with gloved hands. “Excuse me?” the man asks and his voice is smooth and soft. “I couldn't help but notice your uniforms. Are you students of Shujin Academy?”

As Ryuji answers the young man with a, “Yeah, whaddya want?”, Akira can hear his blood rushing in his ears. As the man steps closer, Akira has to fight the urge to take steps back. The only thing keeping him frozen to the ground is Arsene’s harsh whisper of, _“Do not show weakness!”_

The young man, he can’t be any older than them really, simply smiles politely in the face of Ryuji’s aggressive attitude. “I happened to be passing by, so it seemed polite to greet you,” he explains. “We’ll be filming together, after all.”

He seems to finally notice Akira’s staring and turns to fully face him, that smile growing wider. “Ah, where are my manners?” he says pleasantly. “My name is Goro Akechi.”

Auburn hair frames his face nicely and his eyes are just as brown and warm. He smiles at Akira as if he really is just trying to be polite, that they’ve all managed to stumble together purely by Fate and nothing else. Distantly, Akira wonders how someone so healthy looking can be carrying such damning poison.

Though he can’t physically see it, he knows that Arsene can. And besides, just because he can’t _see_ doesn't mean that he can’t _feel_. It’s sickening, the negativity that hangs off of this Akechi’s shoulders. It feels slimy and wrong, as it drips like sludge from his every breath. Arsene hisses again and that causes the other personas inside to react as well. He can feel Pixie fidget restlessly against his consciousness and he has to suppress a wince as Hua Po lets out a distressed chirp. It seems that there’s not a single persona within him that doesn’t feel some sort of distress from the poison oozing from Akechi.

Ultimately, it’s Arsene’s harsh hisses and demands for silence that keeps him quiet during the interaction, reducing what he says to mere one words answers and nods. If either Ryuji or Ann notice that something’s off with him, they don’t say anything.

It’s only after Akechi says goodbye and they goes their separate ways that Akira wonders how Akechi had managed to accumulate so much negative energy at such a young age and why it’s sticking to him like a parasite. He can feel that Arsene’s still ruffled by the encounter though, so he pushes those thoughts from his mind. It’s not like he’ll be seeing Akechi again anytime soon, right? Best leave that particular mystery alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, kudos, comments, and constructive criticism are always extremely welcomed!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading and, as always, constructive criticism is very welcomed and appreciated!


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